What is silent in the father, speaks in the son
by VenusJay
Summary: Thranduil will do anything to protect his son and struggles with the loss of his soulmate. A prophecy weaves throughout this tale of adventure, love and heartbreak as it follows the lives of Legolas and his father in Middle Earth. Darker themes at times- Chinese Translation; see link Chapter 1. I try my best to respond to every review and I am always delighted to hear from you.
1. Chapter 1

Slowly and stealthily, he inched a little closer to the left to have a better view of his target. His steps were light and he followed through with lithe movements. The bow in his hand was steady as he drew back an arrow. The animal was oblivious; nose raising at the new smell that filled its nostrils. Too late it had begun to sense a threat. Fingers began to loosen on the string.

"_Ion nin_," came the ghost of a whisper from behind him. It startled the young elf and the arrow slipped from his grasp; loosing into the distant trees. It stretched far enough that the rustle of it finding a target did not spook the deer.

"_Ada_," he hissed indignantly before turning to his father and realising his disrespectful tone. He lowered his eyes when he discovered his father looking at him with disapproval. With the same silent grace, the elven King moved towards his son, placing a hand on his shoulder to turn him back towards the clearing. Together they watched the deer.

"We must think of the consequences of our actions, before we take them."

The young elf could feel his heart beat a little faster when he spotted the fawn picking its way through the undergrowth towards its mother. Raising its nose, it looked straight at them; unaware that they posed any threat.

Legolas looked at his father then, expecting to see anger towards him but was even more shamed when he saw hurt there.

"What would a fawn be without its mother," Thranduil spoke to himself. He turned to leave then, beckoning for his son to follow him. The young elf moved swiftly to catch up but stayed a little behind in fear that his ada was angry with him; an action that was not unnoticed.

"You linger, _ion nin_."

They had reached the edge of the close of trees then, the bright sunlight casting a peaceful tone on the grassy embankments. The King crouched and motioned for his son to come forth and there was a slight smile when he saw the hesitation of the boy. He reached out to cup his child's cheek.

"I'm sorry," Legolas said with a poorly hidden tremble to his lips.

"What for?"

"I did not mean to make you angry."

The King sighed and stood.

"You should be sorry for your actions; not just the results of them."

He held out a hand for the little elf to take and he felt the reluctance and confusion in him when he did.

"The things around us; the trees, the rivers, the animals, they give us life. We in turn give them our respect and our kindness. We take from them only when we must. That is something you must know Legolas. Every living thing and creature has a life of its own. Today you might have robbed a young fawn of its mother for the sake of target practice."

He could see that his son was beginning to understand the gravity of his actions.

"It would not have understood. It would have cried for her and lay down with the lifeless body; no-one would have come for it, cared for it. And you might have left with a sense of victory. There is no victory in senseless killing."

The words were harsh to the boys ears and he felt a deep shame settle within him when he recalled the young fawns of Mirkwood drinking water from his cupped hand under his fathers watchful and approving eyes. He was King of these lands and felt genuine love for everything in it; most of all, his son.

"I'm sorry," Legolas repeated but this time with real comprehension. "I did not think of it."

Thranduil nodded his approval.

"It is time to eat," he said as they journeyed back.

* * *

><p><em>ion nin-<em>my son  
><em>ada-<em>father/papa

Link to chinese translation-  
>h t t p<br>: / / tieba. baidu

com  
>p/3588862934


	2. Chapter 2

Though he was selected for his post for his firm nature and strong will, the guard's heart softened to see the King interact with his son. The young elf was growing to be a remarkable creature and his enthusiasm for life restored some of the broken pieces of the King's heart.

Today he had lured some butterflies into the Throneroom by his softly spoken elvish tongue with the pure intention of seeing his father smile. He had succeeded and Thranduil allowed the boy to rest in his lap as they fluttered about them. The guard stifled a laugh when they descended upon the King's crown.

"Ada, they must like you," the elven prince cried happily as one landed on his finger. There was a firm knock on the doors then and the guard opened them to reveal one of the members of the council.

"Your Grace," he began immediately but faltered when he took in the scene before him.

"Yes," Thranduil asked without taking his eyes off his son.

"The elders have requested your audience. They have travelled far and I assured them they would have your undivided attention," he said in a clipped and insinuating tone.

"That was not your assurance to give," Thranduil replied icily but nevertheless asked Legolas to adjourn to the gardens. He openly laughed as his council member tried to herd the butterflies outside who only responded to his son's soft invitations. As soon as the Prince was gone the room returned to its state of cold despondence, as did the King.

"Send them in."

He tried to focus his mind as they set their petitions to him and right at the moment he was losing his patience, one of the errant butterflies settled on the tip of his shoe. He smiled a little to himself before carrying on.


	3. Chapter 3

"But, Ada! It will get me," the young prince cried loudly and buried himself in the folds of his father's cloak.

"Legolas, there is no Balrog. there is nothing to fear," he stated calmly and waited for his son to re-emerge from the waves of silver fabric. At first he could see only the top of a golden head but then wide and piercing eyes appeared. They seemed to glisten with moisture and the King was taken aback a little. He was not used to seeing things that cried. Those around him were always certain to mask their fears to be seen as brave and strong and his son was still to him a strange new thing. Thranduil had always needed to be strong and brave but only now did it feel he had a purpose behind it.

In a very unkingly fashion he stooped to pick up his son and cradled him close. He had seen eyes that glistened like that before and it was at a time when he had to bid goodbye. How he reminded him of her. Her scent lingered on in new skin and Thranduil stroked the soft blonde hair that blended with his own as his son rested against his shoulder.

"I shall always protect you, Legolas," he whispered in the age old language.

"_Melin_," little Legolas whispered.

"_Gin Melathon an-uir,"_ Thranduil replied as he kissed him on the forehead.

* * *

><p><em>Melin-<em>(childlike version of 'I love you')  
><em>Gin Melathon an-uir-<em>You shall have my love for eternity


	4. Chapter 4

Elrond smirks to see the expression on his friend's fine features. For such a celebration, the elven King could not appear to be having less of an enjoyable time.

"What ails you, _mellon? _Is this not a night of festivities?"

Thranduil casts his eyes to his right and takes a heavy sip of his cup.

"Perhaps my elven eyes decieve me," the King says dryly as he watches the various beings that gawk at his son.

"Come now, Thranduil. Even you must someday acknowledge the effect he has. There will be a great many who desire to steal his heart."

"Then they should know it is well guarded," came the icy reply.

Elrond quietly observes the scene playing out in front of him. The young elf stands surrounded by almost every elleth in attendance as well as many males. Elrond is surprised how it pleases him to see the prince look bashful. In seeing the boy grow up, he had feared his father's affections would raise his pride to a level of arrogance but he could see now how it was not so. The prince indeed glowed and the songs written about him did him no justice.

Alongside his friend, Elrond laughs to hear them plague the elf with questions about this and that and compliments flow as freely as the fine wine. He is thankful the taste of it was not as bitter or sour as his friends darkened mood.

"You know he will not leave you, Thranduil," he speaks quietly and is not suprised to see the idignant look in the King's eyes.

"I never said-"

"Ai. You never say, but I see it in your heart. You see all those that fawn over him as the one who might steal him away from you."

The King says nothing and sips from his wine once more.

* * *

><p><em>mellon-<em>expression of friendship


	5. Chapter 5

The sky is tinged pink as the evening sun begins to fade from the wide expanse of sky. The young prince climbs higher through the branches as though to chase it to its very last moments. His sharp eyes catch the flash of green as it hits the horizon and that is when he knows he must acknowledge its departure; for now. He will be here to greet it in the morn.

Already he can see the spark of light from the brightest star as they awaken and he can hear the trees whispering about him. As though the attention of other people was not enough to embarass him.

"I can hear you," he groaned at them and they fell silent very quickly. He was not angry with them, he just did not understand the sudden attention from all those around him and his father seemed particularly angry about it all. Though what he had done to deserve his father's contempt confused him greatly.

He left no footprints in the soil as he passed between the trees and in the distance he could see light coming from their castle. His father always called it the 'home' but that seemed alien to the elf's tongue. Their home was the trees and the rivers.

He sighs a little as he steps upon the rocks in the stream, knowing that when he arrives he will be forced to endure the company of those he had been repeatedly avoiding. One of the guards had warned him of the plot by some elleths to steal a kiss and the thought horrified the young prince. They were all only a few hundred years older than he; how could they be thinking on such things?! He could not see himself wanting to do that with anyone for at least another four hundred years.


	6. Chapter 6

"Don't you recall your father's despair for the same reasons?"

Thranduil was surprised that this did not anger him so. Perhaps time had made it less painful or perhaps Elrond was the only person who could say it without hurting him. There was humour in it and Elrond was glad to see that the King could see it.

"He gets it from his mother," he said, somewhat happiness buried amongst the longing. There was a hush in the small audience there as the gentle song of a lyre played and the King relaxed back in his chair. Immortality in the elven world granted the opportunity to become greatly skilled in a great many things but Thranduil took great pride in the things his son excelled in. He plucked the strings in the way that anyone else would and yet the music he created surpassed the beauty of any other. The King had to admit however that it was made sweeter yet by the awe-struck silence of his guests even if it did partain to having the elleths salivate at the sight of him.

The way they looked at him reminded him of the way someone had once looked at him and although the thought pained him, he in that moment realised what he was trying to deny his son; his everything. He could feel Elrond's eyes on him but he did not look to him. He always had a way of knowing his thoughts even though they always centred around the same thing.

The music ceased then and there was more than polite acknowledgment of it. His son seemed radiant even in his bashful state and thanked them all kindly. Thranduil stood then and the room watched him obediently.

"Honoured guests, _ni gellweg an gin cened. _The Prince and I are grateful for your company this evening and we have been blessed to hear his great skill."

There were murmurs of praise around the room once more.

"I have been told on many an occasion that I am a man of great pride," he said with mirth. "And as you see, it is not without reason."

Gentle laughter could be heard then and Thranduil could tell his son had grown even more embarassed.

"But please, dear friends. I fear that should my son be praised further, his pride will grow even greater than his father's. Let us be blessed by the music of another. May I be so bold as to place a request to the Lady Arwen?"

The young elleth glanced to her father with a demure smile and Elrond exchanged a thankful look with the King when his daughter began to sing. She nodded for Legolas to join in with her song and they seemed so at peace together.

* * *

><p><em>ni gellweg an gin cened-<em>we are blessed to be in your company/happy to see you 


	7. Chapter 7

Legolas and Arwen had finished their song much to the Prince's relief and he was now helping himself to some of the food he had been forced to neglect. With barely more than a bite in his mouth Celebrian stood before him at the table.

"We're organising a game of Seek in the forest Legolas, we would love for you to join us," the young elf asked with a friendly tone.

"Ai, no fair, Celebrian! If he comes we want him on our team," one of the others called when they spied the exchange. The Prince could see that Arwen too was being pestered in a much less friendly way by one of the other elves.

"That sounds very fine, Celebrian. Thank you for the invitation," he began with the intent of declining but then he caught the pleading look in Arwen's eyes and with a sigh nodded his consent. He could feel his father and Elrond watching him carefully as he made his way to her.

"May I join your team, my Lady," he asked her politely and she seemed very relieved. The brunette who stood so close to her however seemed less so. Though all those who surrounded her aside from the prince were a form of brunette. And there stood many. At least he was not the only one to suffer unwanted affections. There was a cheer as the group made their way through the large oak doors, Legolas and Arwen tailing behind.

Thranduil stared at the doorway once they had left. His friend laughed to himself and caught his eye.

"I don't know whether to be frightened or honoured by the stares of death my daughter recieves from you, Thranduil."

The King strokes his long fingers along the stem of his cup and knits his brows together.

"Do you suppose," he starts in a far off voice. He does not finish but his meaning is clear.

"It is hard to say. I know Arwen has expressed great affection for your son but I have no way of knowing if that feeling is returned," he spoke carefully, preparing himself for the anger of his friend. Though why he should be blamed for his daughter's affections, he did not understand.

"Hmmm," was all the King said for a long while. Their silence was thoughtful but never uncomfortable.

"I suppose, should he wish...can't deny him forever."

Privately, Elrond was worried about such a match between Legolas and his daughter. The Prince was growing into a handsome elf, more and more with each passing year. It was not difficult to understand why even his daughter would find affection for him. It was clear he had a good heart but Elrond feared the day they might wed. As a friend, it was his duty and his wish to protect Thranduil; make him see reason when it came time for Legolas to leave him. He did not think, however, that it would be in part his fault. It grieved him to think it would be Arwen to break Thranduil's heart for a second time in his life. They were so young and love to them so fleeting. His daughter was wise and kind but at times she could be blinded in selfish actions. No, he would have to ensure they remained friends for the forseable future.

"I do not wish to offend, Thranduil. But Arwen is older than Legolas as you know. She will come of age much sooner and there are a great many suitors who will likely persue her as they do now. I would be loathe to deny them in favouritism for your son. Though if the union would be a happy one, I would not deny it."

His friend understood his true meaning and he was grateful to him. They drank a little more of their wine and outside they could hear the shouts and calls of the game beginning.


	8. Chapter 8

Legolas was in a way, relieved. Had he said no he knew they would not have relented until he joined them but being on the team elected to hide he was able to gain some alone time in one of his favourite secluded spots. The stars blinked at him sleepily as he watched them through the leaves. Stretching back he rested on the branch that could support only the weight of such a light creature. It swayed a little in the breeze but that only served to make it a more restful spot. The elven Prince considered having a nap here but he did not feel tired, more content. So many times he had some here and yet every time held new beauty for him to discover and cherish.

There was a rustle below him and he turned swiftly to glance down. One of the elleths had just walked beneath his branch and he was sure at any moment she would glance up to find him. Though he was well hidden, he still felt a tingle within him of anticipation. She called out his name and the Prince almost laughed to think she did not understand the point of this game.

"The game is finished now, you can come down," she said lightly. She was startled when the blonde youth dropped down in front of her, barely disturbing the leaves gathered there.

"I had wondered why things were quiet," the Prince mused. He was disarmed a little by the smile she gave him.

"So that's where you were hiding," she laughed as she looked to the trees. She said it as though surprised that an elf might think to climb a tree. "How clever of you."

Legolas felt the familiar sense of discomfort as her eyes set about that glazed look he was becoming more accustomed to these days. She stepped closer to him and the prince was definitely worried.

"We should find the others," he said with a somewhat vague gesture and stepped around her when she moved closer still.

"_Ci bain,_" she said with a smile and a hint of a blush to her pale skin.

"_Le fael,_" Legolas replied with a hint of annoyance. She reached to grasp his wrist then and Legolas did not pull away. He knew he would be a lot stronger than her, he could hurt her very easily. She took this to mean he did not wish to leave.

"_Man ceril,_" he asked her as she seemed to lean towards him with her eyes closed.

"You don't have to be so formal, Legolas," she laughed and opened her eyes. "_Gin seron._"

Legolas pulled his arm sharply from her grasp and the force was enough to pull her slightly. Her eyes looked hurt.

"Sorry," the prince said quietly.

"I believed, perhaps that you might also like me," she said in a way the prince could only class as coy, though he was unfamiliar with the behaviour. "Have you ever kissed anyone, my Prince," she asked him.

Legolas turned away in embarassment. "I have no wish to," he replied in a tone that startled him. He sounded a lot like his father.

"But surely, when you do, you would like to know how it is done. So as not to embarass yourself."

"The only one to have embarassed themselves, is you."

The young elleth faltered under the glare she recieved. This was definitely not the reaction she wanted and the piercing and cold stare greatly reminded her of those of another.

"They're right, your father has made you cold," she said harshly. Legolas felt his stomach jolt then. The others had said that?

"Don't say that," he spoke gently despite the anger he felt.

"You say that because you know it to be true," she said loftily. "Don't you fear you will be alone like him?"

"Gilraen!"

They both turned sharply to one of the others who appeared through the clearing.

"_Man agoreg?_ That is the Prince you are speaking to," the elf said with slight alarm in his eyes.  
>"Legolas, I deeply apologise for my sister. She has been foolish."<p>

He gave the prince a respectful nod then and stepped forward quickly to take a hold of his sister's arm. Legolas could feel the tips of his ears burn and he cast his eyes downward for a moment before hearing his father's voice chide him.

"That's alright, Lenwe. It is forgiven," he spoke in an authorative voice he knew his father would approve of. Gilraen had the sense to look embarassed as her brother scolded her. Legolas took off then back to the castle. He was no longer in the mood for games or for their guests. As soon as he reached the doors he composed himself as best as he could, knowing that the eagle eyes of his father would sense his annoyance. Quietly he made his way past the dining hall where he could hear his father and Elrond speaking.

"Legolas?"

Sighing, he stopped and retreated back to the doorway. Every time, no matter how quiet he is, it's like his father can sense him. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"_Tolo govano ven,_" Thranduil gestured for him to sit by them. When he did his father held out a hand to him which he took. It seemed a childish thing to do when Elrond sat with them but he masked his feelings for the sake of his father. "You no longer wished to join their company?"

"_Goheno nin._ For some, it is not my company they seek."

Elrond laughed a little but Thranduil gave him a piercing stare. "Of whom do you speak?" The laughter had gone from Elrond's heart when a thought of his daughter entered his mind.

"Surely not, Thranduil," he chided his friend but he was ignored.

"Of whom do you speak, Legolas," the King asked again.

"Gilraen," he said quietly, loathe to answer but afraid to disobey his father. "Nothing happened," he insisted and blushed a little as a result. Now he could see the cold stare of his father that he had been accused of.

"I see. And here I thought it would be her brother who would become a problem."

His laugh was a little disjointed from his sentiments but he looked to Elrond as thought for him to join in.

"Where is Arwen," Elrond asked the boy kindly.

"I have not seen her since we left _noss._"

He recieved a nod in affirmation and Legolas was contented to sit by his father as they talked into the night.

* * *

><p><em>Ci bain-<em>Your beauty compares only to the stars  
><em>Le fael-<em>That is generous of you  
><em>Man ceril<em>- What are you doing  
><em>Gin seron<em>-I like you  
><em>Man agroreg<em>-What have you done?  
><em>Tolo govano ven<em>-Come and join our company  
><em>Goheno nin-<em>Forgive me


	9. Chapter 9

"Your grace, do you wish to hold him?"

Thranduil stepped forward from the shadows he had been confined to all this time. The still and quiet was a little alarming after the commotion that had preceded. Holding out his arms, he felt the weight of the bundle in his arms; or rather, the lack of it.

His son.

"My wife," he said quietly, a question but without enough thought to make it seem as one. The woman understood him despite.

"Resting. I've made a draught for her, she will not waken for a while. Seems happy enough though, doesn't he," she sighed at the bundle in the King's arms. He did not respond but instead took the child over to the window so as to let the sun touch his cheeks. The small head that had burrowed itself in his father's cloak now turned towards the light and yawned widely. Thranduil was not prepared when the babe opened his eyes to the light and they flashed the most brilliant and piercing blue. He had thought perhaps that they may take on the soft green haze of his mother but alas, no.

"Arbelleson," he whispered to the little form in his arms. "Strong and noble," he stated. He had thought of naming the child for his father but he did not wish to see pain each time he looked to his son. Arbelleson was a strong and masculine choice for the future prince of Mirkwood. The little elf stretched lightly and the King's heart warmed to see the small, pointed ears and the wisps of silvery blonde hair.


	10. Chapter 10

"Arasinya," he whispered. _"Na vedui."_

His heart smiled to see him, her beautiful eyes meeting his even in the even-shadow of the room. "We have a son," he said excitedly and she reached forward to take the sleeping bundle from his arms. The moment she did his arms felt so light and empty.

"Arbelleson," he said warmly and nodded towards their child. "What do you think?"

"I thought we planned to name him Oropher," she said kindly and stroked her husband's cheek. Thranduil leant into her touch, pleased they were alone so that he could let his guard down.

"The name is one of death and bloodshed now. I do not wish that upon our son."

She did not argue with him, only gave him a look of understanding and comfort. One that only she could give him for such a matter.

"Arbelleson," she said softly and looked down at the elven prince. "You want him to be strong and brave," she smiled almost sadly. "He already has so much to live up to. It is a beautiful name, my love. A wise choice."

Thranduil took a hold of her hand and they watched the flutter of the little elf's eyes as he dreamed.

"It seems he was always destined to have your eyes but is it not unfair he should have your hair as well," she sighed with a tug to her own darker locks.

"This family could only have one beauty in it," he told her; passion in his eyes. "Had he taken after you I would have felt inferior always."

"He will be beautiful," she insisted as the little elf grasped one of her fingers in his whole fist. "I dreamed of him for so long and now he is here," she whispered and kissed his forehead. The baby stirred and opened his eyes to the dismay of his mother. She expected he would cry but he did not. Instead he looked at them with wide eyes and pulled his fist towards the tiny mouth to suck on the finger he had captured.

"Arbelleson," she sighed happily. "A strong name for a prince."

"You detest it," Thranduil smirked now. He knew his wife better than anyone and he could tell that she had not warmed to it in the way he had.

"I do not," she insisted.

"Arasinya, you have given me a son. Choose the name, please."

She gave him a small smile then. Moments such as these were the ones she was sad that others did not see. The love and the sacrifices he made for her.

"Legolas."

"Legolas," he repeated in confusion. She nodded and re-arranged the blankets that held their son. "Legolas."

* * *

><p><em>Na vedui-At last<br>Arasinya (Name)- _Doe


	11. Chapter 11

"Legolas, where are your manners," the King sighed as his son hid behind him.

"That is quite alright, your majesty. We apologise for the intrusion in your home, master Legolas."

The Prince peered around his father's knees then to hear himself addressed as 'master'. He had never been 'master' anything before.

"Adar," the young prince spoke loudly. "You have not introduced them to me."

Thranduil had to bite his tongue to refrain from laughing at his son's sudden formality.

"You speak so well for one so quiet," Calanon said cheerfully in admiration for the King's son. He grew more like his father with each passing day.

"My mother says when we are quiet the truth speaks louder."

"Said."

All eyes turned to the King then.

"She said that, Legolas. Past tense."

The council members present bristled. A few mutter their disgust at what they had just heard and Calanon was especially concerned when he saw the young prince simply nod as though to correct himself. Part of him feared the likeness of father and son if it meant the boy too would descend into despair and unhappiness. He tried to remind himself that the King had lost his soul mate but he wondered the effect it would have on the prince to lose his remaining parent to the realms of grief. He feared more for the Kingdom if the boy was raised by such a broken-hearted man.


	12. Chapter 12

_It is an absolute delight to read your thoughts on the story and I very much appreciate all of the reviews and the feedback to my writing. I greatly deliberated about writing it but it has recieved a wonderful response and I am incredibly grateful. The characters are particularly close to my heart and it is wonderful to have an opportunity to explore their relationship knowing that I have the support of the readers. I would like to personally thank everyone reading this, I hope you enjoy it._  
><em>It has been pointed out to me that the elvish can cause confusion and I have now included the translations at the bottom of the page. I hope this helps.<em>

* * *

><p>Over and under; the water in the stream fought for dominance. It slipped over the smooth and aged stones that forged the path it must take. Leaves in their final stages of disintergration swirled in the small rapids. Some tore even further but there were a few that held fast.<p>

The trees stretched out their roots after a night of being cramped in the darkness; the sun was a welcome warmth to their old bones and they basked in it happily. They could only smile to themselves when they heard the laughter of the young prince. Happy were they to see all of the young elves and elleths: for in these parts they rarely had visitors. But the prince in particular held peace with the nature around him. One of the elder trees had been awake one evening when the prince had wandered through and glad they were too. They knew, along with all the forest beings, that the young elf was not allowed in these parts and he would need someone to keep an eye on him.

The elder tree had watched in fascination that night as the elf stood before him.

"Beautiful tree, I know you are at rest and I do not wish to disturb you. I only wished to climb your branches so that I may see beyond this realm."

He was gentle then as he climbed the branches, all the while giving thanks to the tree for supporting him. He had stayed a while, looking out beyond. He had bid them goonight then and been on his way. The prince had respect for the trees and creatures and it was greatly appreciated: especially in their old age.

Now they all spied the golden haired youth and a number of other elves. They began to explore, playing and singing. It was beautiful to hear and the trees rustled their leaves to join in their song. They tensde, however, when they saw the young elf aproach the lady in the tree. The trees did not know her. Men had brought her there one morning and she remained there still. They had only seen the King visit it and bear sadness before it. The tree it had been fashioned beside had reached out to grow around it. They had all agreed that if the King desired it there then it ought to be protected.

"Legolas, what is it?"

"There is a statue," he said excitedly. "There, in the tree, look!"

"A lady in the tree," one of the others called out and the group broke into mutterings. They drew closer to it and the trees gathered their branches around just a little. They did not want the elves to hurt it.

"I wonder who it is?"

"Maybe it's an elder elf."

The prince did not say anything. He simply looked at it fondly. The others soon lost interest and departed to various other parts of the unexplore forest. Legolas looked upon it a while longer before swiftly running to join his friends.


	13. Chapter 13

"Legolas, is everything alright?"

Their camp was set for the night and Gimli busied himself with building a fire. Legolas looked up from the letter in his hands to find Aragorn watching him carefully.

"Yes," he said with a sad smile. "My father wishes to know how our company fares."

Aragorn gave a grim nod. He knew how much his friend worried for his father. He did not know any other race that held the same concern for their kin. It was a different kind of love that can only be born from immortality. These last few nights he had watched with growing concern each time Legolas held the letter in his hands, as though reading it over again would bear new words. He felt regret that he had stolen a glance at the letter. It was a deep betrayal of their friendship but Legolas had grown increasingly quiet through their evenings to the point of near silence. His eyes held a far away and wistful gaze.

Thranduil expressed his longing to see his son again, lamenting on how lonely Mirkwood was in his absence. It spoke of someone named Tauriel and in their years of friendship it concerned Aragorn that he did not know the name Thranduil saw fit to mention. His heart longed to ask him about it but he was worried he would hurt Legolas in bringing it up.

The elf folded the parchment carefully and placed it back within his tunic.

"I'll keep watch," he said quietly as he raised himself from the ground.

"You must rest, Legolas," Aragorn said a little irritably. He knew that the elf did not need rest in the way the rest of them did but further isolation from the group could do him no favours. "We will be safe here a while. Perhaps you might entertain us with a song?"

He could hear Gimli snort with laughter at the idea and he almost laughed himself when Legolas obliged and Gimli felt silent in awe. The song was a sad one and Aragorn shared a look with his friend. They were the only two to understand it, in more than one way.

"I remember my father singing that," Aragorn said as he lit his pipe.

"I too remember," Legolas smiled at the thought.

"Well, it certainly lightened the mood," Gimli rolled his eyes and the two friends laughed.


	14. Chapter 14

Arwen moved her skirts to the side to ensure they were not in the way as Legolas sat further down the steps in front of her. The throne still had one of Thranduil's cloaks draped across it and she had joked that he should sit in it. He declined with a laugh but there seemed to be a hint of fear in it. His now long legs crossed at the ankles and he placed his weight on his hands at either side. It was a nice feeling, to have Arwen braid his hair. He had a vague memory of his mother doing so; soft and gentle hands along with a soft and gentle voice. She was humming to herself and Legolas found himself closing his eyes. It was not out of any desire to pretend it was his mother, but he had to admit that the thought had entered his heart.

"What should we do today," she asked him after a little while. The elf could feel his hair being tied off at the bottom and sat up a little straighter.

"Do you have to leave," he asked her sadly. Throughout his childhood he recalled Arwen being there for only brief periods of time. No more than five years or so and each time they left for Rivendell, Legolas would fear the desolation of his father's spirit. He strived in every way to bring his father happiness but at times he feared it was impossible. When Elrond left, Legolas felt an overwhelming guilt at being the reason Thranduil did not simply sail to Valinor.

"Legolas, please don't make me feel sad at our parting. You know I miss you dearly each time."

"_Goheno nin, Arwen._ It's just that Mirkwood can be lonely at times. Day after day the elves grow restless and it won't be long until they are driven from these lands. Most of them have already taken their leave. You're my only friend."

He said the last part quietly, startling himself with the realisation. He felt her arms wrap around his shoulders and they embraced for a moment.

"Come with us to Rivendell," she suggested, though she already knew the reply. They both became lost in their own thoughts for a little while then.

"I know what we should do today," Legolas said suddenly and as soon as she had tied off his hair he was on his feet. Arlen always envied how everything took so little effort with him and in a few graceful strides he was at the door.

"There is something I wish to show you," he said excitedly and she smiled as she ran to follow him into the forest.


	15. Chapter 15

Arwen finally caught up with the elf who was much faster than she. He was in the furthest outstretch of the forest and the fields were visible through the trees. He had his back to her and looked up at a tree then, one that she knew to enclose a statue.

"Legolas?"

"You see, just there! There is a lady in the tree, a statue."

He turned to smile at her then and Arwen's heart grew heavier to see it.

"Since I was a child, I've come here. I found it once and with the others but they did not pay any heed to it. But I came back to look at it more closely and then it sort of became a habit. She just seems so peaceful," he said wistfully. "When you are gone, sometimes I sit here for hours; days even. I just talk to it," he told her quietly. She could see a hint of pink in his cheeks. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

"She's beautiful," she said as a thousand thoughts crossed her mind and her father's voice hung in the air.

_'Hours he'll sit there; days even. Just looking at it; talking to it. It's a wonder that the realm does not simply fall into decay as he pines for her. Sometimes, Arwen, I do not know how to help him. The statue seems to but I fear that Thranduil refuses to accept that she is gone. I asked him once to remove it, for the child's sake. He simply moved it to the outer forest and forbade him to go there.'_

"I guess, I just wanted to share it with someone," he said sadly.

"Legolas."

"It's okay," he said quickly, sensing her worry. "It just makes me sad that no one else knew it was here, but now someone does. I've thought about telling my father about it but I don't think he would really appreciate it. He might ask them to take it away."

He picked his way through the tree roots and she smiled at him as they made their way towards the river.

"Perhaps you could help me improve my archery this evening. Your father says you are unchallenged in it," she teased and he laughed. She was glad to hear the sound.

"Surely if I teach you I'll be creating myself a challenge."

They talked about lighter things as they stepped over the stones in the river, the water cooling their feet. Around them the forest began to settle itself for the evening as the sky bled into dusky pinks and blood orange.


	16. Chapter 16

"Thranduil, please. Say something."

"Like what?"

Arasinya knelt on the floor beside her husband. She hovered in that space between friends and lovers before finally moving forward and pulling him close. The barriers crumbled away at her touch and she felt the trembling long before she heard the quiet sobs.

"You know he would not want you to weep for him. Because of him, Sauron is defeated. We should honour him," she said softly. "You're the King now, is that not cause to celebrate?" She felt him tense in her arms and believed at last she had gotten through to him. Though Thranduil loved her more than anything, at that moment he hated her. Taking all of his strength, he composed himself and drew himself up from the floor.

"King," he said with bitterness that Arasinya did not hear.

"Yes, my love. Mirkwood is under your protection now, safe at last from evil."

"How glorious," he replied in a tone that even she could not mistake. She stood then and watched him with a curious expression as he ascended the steps to the ornate throne and placed a hand on it gently.

"Perhaps before I claim my throne, I ought to let the bloodstains dry fully."

"Thranduil."

"Leave me," he said quietly as he turned from her. He did not glance around to see her leave but he heard the door closing quietly. How could she possibly understand? Her love for him may extend to the end of the realms and farther still. Her devotion could last for an eternity and her attendance to his needs greater than any mother's. And yet, her only concern was for him. Her only love was for him. Her only devotion was to him. And here he stood with the concerns of a Kingdom and only a simple throne to help support the weight of it all. They would all live in harmony; celebrating and laughing and dancing upon the bones of all those who gave their lives for it. For what? They may have their Kingdom, but they certainly didn't have a King.


	17. Chapter 17

"Someday, Legolas, you will be King."

"King," the little elf repeated in a puzzled tone. He ran his hand against the fur of the elk's back to create swirling patterns. He was too little to see over the antlers so on these trips with his father he contented himself to daydream.

"Of course," Thranduil went on. "Don't you want to be King," he said, testing him. His son seemed to think for a very long moment.

"Can I do whatever I please?"

The King laughed a little to himself then.

"I should say you could, yes."

"Then I wouldn't want to be King."

Thranduil looked down to see his son tracing patterns in the elk's fur as he always did and it amused him.

"And why is that?"

There was a long pause then as Legolas seemed to draw in a very large breath to match the importance of his words.

"Because if you could do whatever you please then there would be no fun in having secret things."

"Secret things? What kind of secret things?"

The little elf raised his arms with a dramatic sigh.

"If I tell you then they won't be secret things anymore!"

Thranduil stroked the mass of blonde hair in front of him and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He wondered how many more years of this wisdom he had to cherish. He loved to watch his son grow but moments like this he wished he could stay in forever.

"Did grandfather want to be King," he asked suddenly.

Thranduil felt his heart jar for a moment.

"I never asked him," he said with realisation. "I just supposed he had."

"Did you want to be King, ada?"

Thranduil had to think for a moment.

"I never thought about it, I just supposed I would be."

"That's almost the same answer as before. That's cheating."

The elk gave a large snort then and Thranduil could feel Legolas jump a little in surprise.

"I've just realised something," Legolas said in a serious tone.

"And what would that be _ino nin," _he asked with a smile; preparing himself for more of his philosophical wonderings.

"My shoes are on the wrong feet."


	18. Chapter 18

"Hear them talk of what they saw,  
>Fierce and proud they went to war,<br>Holding shield and clutching spear,  
>Till the enemy drew near.<p>

When the earth did start to quake,  
>They then realised their mistake,<br>Forever would they rue the day,  
>For the King of Elves was here to slay."<p>

Thranduil and the other council members laughed heartily as they listened in to what Legolas had been singing. Oblivious the elfling sat beneath the table, arranging leaves he had gathered into a spectrum of colour.

"Is that something you've been teaching him, Thranduil," Rhael jested.

"I wish it were, _mellon_. I could only hope to have such musical skill. He does not get it from me. They're hard to keep up with at times, he seems to have a new one each day."

"Have you any about dwarves, little one," Thannor peered below the table to ask him.

"No," the others heard in muffled response.

"Think on it, they make a mighty enemy those dwarves," he chortled.

"Perhaps. But all the songs would be too short."

A chorus of laughter rang out and Thranduil beamed with pride.


	19. Chapter 19

"But I left my bow at the river! I don't have time for this nonsense."

The King raised his eyebrows when his son folded his arms in annoyance. He had greatly been hoping to bypass the age of tantrums but alas not.

"It is not nonsense, Legolas. They have travelled very far to see you."

"Why? They don't even know me. I could be horrid."

"I'm starting to think you might be," Thranduil sighed as he rubbed his temples. "I'll send someone to fetch your bow."

"No!"

"Young man, we do not shout."

"_Goheno nin."_

"It's not just my bow. There are private things."

'Oh for goodness sake,' Thranduil thought to himself.

"Alright," he conceded. "Our guests will be here any minute now. You must run very fast to fetch your things and be back here to meet them, do you understand?"

Like lightning his son was already out the door.


	20. Chapter 20

"Your majesty, Casben son of Undaer and his daughter Telwen."

The pair walked in nervously and Thranduil stood to greet them. He noted that they were dressed in their finest clothing and jewellery and he played a little with the rings on his own fingers. It was always strange to him the dress up people played to meet him when it was more clear to him who they were when they did so.

"Welcome, I am glad to meet you son of Undaer. My father often spoke of the many triumphs your father had."

The elf gave a gracious bow and nodded at his daughter to do the same. This elleth was near fully grown and would likely not change over the course of those years. How unfortunate. Thranduil remarked inwardly on her plain features and vanity for his own son got the better of him. Just as he was wondering where he was, a steward ushered him through the door; fighting with him to take the bow out of his grasp. The visitor's did not seem impressed as the young elf was ushered to the seat by his father at the table.

"Prince Legolas, what an honour it is to make your acquaintance," Casben said gently. "The resemblance to your father is uncanny," he cast a fond look to the King then which almost raised a sneer of distaste from the monarch.

"My father and I are pleased to welcome you to our home," he replied as he had been taught was proper. Casben looked to his daughter then and gave her an encouraging nod.

"Prince Legolas, the tales I have heard do not compare to seeing your beauty in the flesh," she simpered with barely a blush to her cheeks. Thranduil gave Casben a look of surprise to hear his daughter speak to a child in such a way. It almost seemed like courtship. Just then, a few servers carried in dishes of food for them all and Thranduil made some polite conversation with their guests.

"Your journey must have been long," he asked the girl and as in everything she looked to her father before responding.

"It was, your grace. But I was so excited to make your acquaintance that it passed in barely a blink."

Thranduil's only response was to give her a stony stare.

"So, Prince Legolas. Telwen and I are excited to hear about your adventures in Mirkwood. There are a great many rumours of your skills as an archer. Do tell us more."

Legolas felt three pairs of eyes on him at once.

"Well, you try not to miss."

He could see his father smirking but their visitor's did not seem to find it amusing.

"Telwen also enjoys archery. Amongst many other things," Casben carried on the conversation as he tore apart his meat. Legolas supposed that Telwen did not particularly enjoy anything much. The rest of the meal passed with very little event to it and Legolas was relieved when his father told him he may go.

"Perhaps you and Telwen could have some friendly competition in archery," her father suggested.

Thranduil rolled his eyes and cast his son an apologetic look.

"You may go for a little while, Legolas. But I shall send someone for you soon. I know how you can get carried away and you need some rest," he told him assuredly.

* * *

><p>"Should anyone wish to know the father, they need only note the colour of hair," Casben laughed as soon as his daughter and Legolas had left.<p>

"What game do you suppose you are playing here, son of Undaer? I can assure you that you will not win."

"Your majesty, I do not understand."

Thranduil stood from his chair then, glad of his height so that he could tower over him.

"Do you suppose you can play matchmaker with your daughter?"

Casben had the indignity to look shocked then.

"Your grace, I would never have thought such a-"

"Perhaps," Thranduil interrupted him. "Perhaps, it would be a suitable match. What say you on the matter?"

The poor man looked bewildered but hopeful.

"Your majesty, I assure you that my intentions in coming here were entirely honourable. But a match between my daughter and your son would be most welcome to our household. In meeting him, I can see that he is a gentle spirit. My Telwen has a good heart and I must say they seem to have connected so well."

Thranduil took his seat once more and laced his fingers beneath his chin.

"Hmm. But surely, she is of age to be betrothed, is she not?"

"Well, yes your grace. She is."

"And would she not wish to be betrothed to someone else of that age?"

Casben took a drink of his wine then. "I had not thought much of it, your grace. But I know my daughter and I can see that she is quite taken with the Prince."

Thranduil held a menacing smile then.

"We should announce an engagement at once."

He took great delight in watching the man choke on his wine.

"Your grace! How unexpected. Telwen will be overjoyed."

"Your daughter would be a worthy match for my son. He will need a wife of good standing to bear the heir to the throne of Mirkwood. I know my son and I can see that he was enchanted by her presence this evening. I would be a fool not to beg of you to allow their union. There will be a great deal of planning."

"But of course!"

"I'll have the announcements sent out in the morning."

Casben looked to the King as though all his wishes had been answered.

"I shall inform the kitchens of the feast that must be prepared in their honour for this happy occasion," Thranduil smiled. "However," he said with concern. "There is one matter of great importance. Unless it is tended to, there can be no engagement. There can be no wedding. I trust that I can leave it to you?"

"Yes, your grace, of course. I would be happy to," Casben said joyously.

"Very well. I require you to find me a box."

"A box?"

"Yes. My son will need something to stand on if he is to reach his bride," Thranduil replied with a cold glare. He watched the flutter of confusion on Casben's features before they finally settled in anger.

"You-"

"Fiend? Liar? Flatterer? Perhaps we share more in common that we first thought."


	21. Chapter 21

Aragorn drew himself nearer to Legolas and fixed his eyes upon the ground.

"He was trying to tell me that he had wanted the ring. He thought we were better off without him. But we've all thought about that ring. It plays with your mind. To have a thing of such power within your grasp would do the same to any man."

Around them the stars formed a blanket and Legolas hated that they had to start off again so soon. He had carefully wrapped Boromir in Aragorn's cloak and Aragorn had to will himself not to glance at the unmoving form as they walked. He had been especially glad that Legolas was there to lift the body when he did not think he could move from that spot. It had been his friend who suggested they give him a burial according to the customs and Aragorn had wondered for a fleeting moment what the customs of the elves were. Then he recalled that they were immortal and jealousy struck his heart.

"How does it feel, to know you won't die," he asked him quietly.

"Aragorn, I'm immortal-not invincible."

He had to focus then to see his friend's face in the darkness that was enveloping them.

"What does that mean?"

"Estel," Legolas began. His eyes showed his confusion as well as his concern for his friend. " I do not age but that does not mean I cannot die."

"But you've never even had a scratch on you," Aragorn said with half a laugh.

"That is skill, not magic," Legolas replied with pride. "And even at that, that is only in the time you have known me. I have come close on many occasions."

Aragorn realised his stupidity then and slowly the gravity of his friend's words began to sink in. Now he fully understood the risk that Legolas was taking in joining their fellowship. He had grown so accustomed to the idea that Legolas was always there. That he always had been and would continue to be for as long as he chose.

"Death is still a stranger to me in many ways. It has been many years from when I last witnessed it. Sometimes I forget that for all you children, it is different. In a way, I envy you; you have not long to wait before you rejoin the ones you love," Legolas spoke with a sadness that Aragorn was not used to hearing.

"You have lost someone?"

"Yes. Though sometimes we lose people even when we can still touch them. They simply live on the other side of a veil. And there is no ship that can take us there."

Aragorn felt annoyance at himself then, for how little he knew about the friend who was so dear to him. A friend who had followed him into darkness.

"Arwen was willing to give up her immortality for me," he confided in Legolas. He knew that they had been friends but it was still a difficult concept for him to grasp how long they had been on this earth before he was. "Would you ever give it up?"

"I do not know," he replied with a smile. "Living has become a bit of a habit."

"Oi! You two! We'd better get moving faster. We need to clear the trees before nightfall," Gimli called back to them.

* * *

><p>"You make for a good match, Tauriel," Legolas congratulated her on hitting the target. If he was honest with himself, being around Tauriel reminded him a little of his childhood with Arwen. But where Arwen was gentle and motherly, Tauriel was lively and sarcastic. It came into his mind that she was rather like a hybrid between Arwen and his father. Tauriel was about to respond when she saw a movement in the distance.<p>

"Legolas."

He glanced around quickly when he saw her concern.

"Orcs," she said with confusion. "They would not come here."

Legolas had begun to move forward towards the clearing but she pulled him back. "We must return," she urged him as she pulled his arm. He followed her reluctantly as they ran through the forest. Their feet were light and quick as they glided over the forest floor. The trees did their best to sway from their path. Once they had encountered members of the guard on the outskirts, Tauriel began to give them their orders. They had barely reached the gates when they heard an assault taking place behind them. Even from this distance they could see a number of the creatures slash their way through the trees.

"Close the gates," Tauriel called to the stewards at the bridge. Legolas pulled an arrow from his bow and directly hit one of the orcs closest to them but he immediately regretted that it drew attention to the bridge-way and the orc behind charged forward. The Prince was able to gain a hit to it's leg but it wasn't enough. More of them were appearing between the trees and shouts were breaking out all around them. His eyes searched for Tauriel and he saw her in combat with one. She used her dagger having not brought a sword with her. The wood of the gates splintered as the orc fought its way through; tossing the guards into the river with ease. Legolas strung his bow once more and aimed for the neck of the Orc that advanced on him. At this range he could not miss. His target landed and the orc cried out in pain. The prince backed away as the creature swayed but he was surprised to see it pull the arrow from its leg.

The creature advanced once more and Legolas drew the knife held in his quiver. Legolas was relieved when the rest of the guard appeared behind them. He feinted to the left as the orc lunged for him and he raised the knife to plunge it into the thick, greying skin. In an instant he felt the air knocked from him as the orc lifted him and he struggled to free himself. He heard, more than felt, the impact as he was thrown against the wall for more times than he could count.

"Tauriel!"

He knew that she was near but he could not turn his head to find her. He heard the yells of the guardsmen as they took down the last remaining of the pack and he felt the muscles in his shoulder contract sharply as one of his own arrows was forced through them. He fell to the ground then and presumed that someone else had taken care of the orc that now lay dead next to him. Raising himself to his feet, he ran to Tauriel to check that she was okay.

"Tauriel, are you hurt?"

"Legolas!"

"There haven't been orcs here for years," he spoke with anger as he witnessed the carnage that lay before them. He found himself short of breath and Tauriel had taken hold of his arm to steady him.

"Legolas," she said once more and looked to his shoulder. "You're hurt."

He looked down to see the splintered end of his arrow lodged in his shoulder and all at once the pain hit him. It came as more of a surprise to him and he couldn't quite process it, his fingers touched the blood as it seeped from the wound and he noted that the arrow seemed much shorter than the depth of the wound felt. He supposed the orc must have pulled it out a little and he wondered if it was intentional. He did not imagine they were smart enough to understand it would inflict more damage. Tauriel helped him up the steps to the castle, giving orders for the guards to remain in case any more orcs should arrive. With a look of confusion, the elves guarding the castle doors opened them and allowed them to enter.

"Find a healer," she asked one of them as she led Legolas to the throne room. Her heart was in her throat as they entered and the King watched them with wide eyes.

"Legolas!"

In an instant Thranduil was beside his son and forcing him to sit.

"I'm alright," the prince assured him. Legolas became increasingly concerned as Tauriel recounted what had happened. He knew that the silence of his father was only the calm before the storm.

"How could you let this happen," he asked her in a deathly quiet voice as he touched the wound on his son's shoulder.

"It wasn't her fault. If it weren't for Tauriel, we wouldn't have seen them in time to warn anyone."

Thranduil looked unconvinced but relented when one of the healers entered and began to fuss over the prince.

"It's really not as bad as it seems, sire," he said pointedly when Legolas winced at his touch. Under the King's deathly stare he took every precaution in removing the remainder of the arrow. Thranduil lifted it gingerly with his elegant fingers.

"This is one of your arrows," he commented and gave his son a quizzical look.

"The orc pulled it from its leg and used it as a weapon," Tauriel told him. She hovered by the doorway; afraid to intrude. The healer began to exclaim loudly then about the effects of Orc blood on elves and Legolas simply wished he would be silent. The pain was mounting behind his eyes and he felt weary. Pain and bloodshed was not something he experienced often and he hoped not to experience it again for a long while. The healer was chewing on different herbs before blended them into a poultice. The smell of it was earthy and a welcome distraction for the prince. Until it was applied to the wound and the pain mounted to a level that even he could not tolerate quietly.

"_Ada!"_

"I'm here, Legolas," he soothed and Tauriel watched with compassion when the King gently pressed his forehead to his son's.


	22. Chapter 22

"What news of the boy?"

Below them, the sounds of the flute and the lyre could be heard along with the hum of quiet conversation. Elrond had stolen away from the dining when his messenger arrived. Still a young elf but swift and loyal. He held a scroll of parchment out to him and Elrond unfurled it with unease. His eyes quickly scanned through it before reading it once more.

"You may go," he said tiredly.

* * *

><p>"We must do something."<p>

"It is not our place to interfere," she spoke calmly but the determination was clear in every syllable. "You must understand Elrond, though the pebble may be small in the river, the ripples are not."

Her silhouette was framed against the evening sky and even Elrond was struck by the physical beauty of the scene.

"The woodland realm will fall," he insisted and she turned her head slightly.

"That is not our concern."

"Why can't you see," he shouted suddenly and she recoiled a little. "He is dying, Galadriel. And the moment the light leaves his eyes the King shall fall. You would so readily allow their line to wither? Have you forgotten Oropher?"

"Do not say such things to me, Elrond. I remember all."

"Then you'll remember the prophecy," he asked her slowly. It drew her attention.

"The prophecy spoke of Oropher, that was clear in the defeat of Sauron."

He stepped beside her then.

"And what if you're wrong?"

Their eyes met then and he could see the instant of doubt that he needed.

"_The purest heart most broken shall bear the protector,the first of Spring shall renounce the greatest evil and gold shall face black to prevail._ Could it not speak of Thranduil's son?"

"The first of Spring," she mused as she looked out over Rivendell.

"Legolas," he whispered and she closed her eyes. He knew then that she could see what he could not. He prayed she would let him help.


	23. Chapter 23

Only by her captainship was she permitted to enter and her stomach tensed as she felt the icy chill in the room. She noted Legolas' closed eyes and supposed they had given him a draught. Of the very little they slept, she knew Legolas to rest least. He was always watchful, determined to have more adventures. The King was the sorriest sight she had ever born witness too. He knelt by his son and rested his head on the elf's unfeeling hand. He moved slightly when he heard her enter.

"He took the letter?"

"Yes, my King. They will not forsake him," she said with more force than she meant. Perhaps she was trying harder to convince herself that they would help. The medicines they had tried here had little effect other than to cause the prince greater pain.

"I had no idea that-"

She gestured towards her friend and then shook her head. "I'd been told it was a toxin to elves but how could it have become so much worse so quickly? They had better hurry before his pain grows worse," she said angrily. Her eyes lingered on the blackened wound.

"They will not come," Thranduil whispered and looked up into her eyes.

"Of course they will come. Elrond is your friend. Legolas is the prince of the woodland realm!"

"My wife was the queen."

The silence that followed would not stop echoing around the small room. Legolas stirred a little and Thranduil's attention returned to him.

"I cannot lose him, Tauriel. No matter where he is, this realm or the next; I will follow him. He is the only reason I stay. He is all I have left."

He said the last part as more of a casual observation than with any emotion. That chilled the elleth the most.

"You will not lose him. I promise," she told him and knelt beside him on the floor.

"Do not make promises that are not yours to keep, child."

They both turned to look at the prince when he drew in a sharp breath. His eyes opened and flickered in a moment of panic and confusion. He tried to sit up but Thranduil gently held him still.

"_Ion nin_, you've been hurt. You must rest. You shall be well soon."

"Tauriel," he said hurriedly. "Is she alright?"

"I am here, Legolas. I am well," she replied, surprised to hear him ask. She could see the disapproving look that Thranduil cast her way and she averted her gaze. He visibly relaxed then.

"We've sent for help from the High Elves," she told him. "They'll be here soon."

Thranduil looked at her with outrage and she regretted saying it.

"Father, it's nothing. I'll be fine," Legolas insisted. "Just need to take the arrow out," he sighed and rested back in the pillows, wincing as he did. Thranduil cast Tauriel as glance before calling the healer in. 


	24. Chapter 24

Thranduil had not expected a refusal. But then again, dwarves were not famed for their cunning or intelligence; but for their greed. What would it have been to Thorin to bring back to him what was his? And now they would die in his dungeon. Though he supposed they would have died the moment they stepped out of Mirkwood anyway.

How close he had come to having them once again. He recalled the day they had been brought to him, finished in silver and crafted by hand. Each glint of the light on the beautiful jewels made him more eager to see the eyes of his beloved. The ones the stones matched so perfectly even though they dulled in comparison. He had bid her close her eyes as he drew the box from beneath his cloak and took the necklace from it. Her features had softened when she saw them and she exclaimed that she was not worthy of such a beautiful treasure.

"You shall wear it on our wedding day," he had whispered with hope in his heart. Barely a second passed before she told him she would marry him and the thought of that moment brought bliss to his old and weary heart. He needed to hold the jewels once more if he could not hold his beloved. He was beginning to forget the colour of her eyes, the shape of her lips, the sound of her voice. She lived on in Legolas in so many ways however that Thranduil was grateful. He wished that Legolas could remember her but his memories were far more distant being only an elfling when she passed.

He would have the jewels once more and he would see Arasinya again. He would just have to be patient and wait.


	25. Chapter 25

Tauriel stepped across the rocks in the river. She had found herself here without realising where her feet were carrying her. The gentle rush of the rapids blended with the birdsong from nearby and she understood why the prince lived and breathed for these woods. She stayed there a long while, lost in the thoughts of the horrible circumstances they were in. She wondered to herself about what the King had said. They had not come to help his wife. She had begun to understand him a little more. Why he closed himself off to the world and tried to prevent his son from leaving it.

Her hair curled around her features as a strong wind flowed through the trees and she watched them shake from the force. She'd never asked how old these trees were but she imagined they must be ancient. Sometimes when the King sent her to find his son, she would stumble upon him talking to the trees; as though they could hear him. She imagined they must, even for an elf he held a connection to these parts that was unrivalled by any watched them fondly, knowing the comfort they must have provided the prince but as she watched them; their healthy green leaves began to blend into a shade of brown. The strong wind began to snag them loose from the branches and she helplessly watched them fall to the ground.

'No,' she whispered to herself. 'Please no.'

She ran back over the rocks, soaking her feet in the water as she sprinted back towards the castle. As she ran she could see the decay that was rapidly taking place around her, as though racing her as to who would reach the prince first. The guards at the door were visibly surprised when she came in sight of the doors.

"Open the door," she called to them and slipped through the gap that formed as they pulled them. Her footsteps were loud in the passage and she used the twisted branch rail to almost pull herself up the steps. Some of the stewards were gathered outside the room and her heart caught in her throat when they sombrely stood to one side to let her pass.

"No," she whispered as they averted her eye. She could not step into the room so she just watched from the doorway.

"I'm so sorry, your grace," the healer said as he placed the elf's hand back down upon the bed. Thranduil had his back to them all as he looked out of the window. He breathed in deeply as the rain started to pour and the light in the room dulled as clouds shadowed Mirkwood.

"Leave us," he told them all and there was little hesitation as those in the room filed out, past Tauriel and the others.

"Tauriel," Thranduil called to her as she had turned to go. "Stay."

Her movements were slow as she stepped inside and her skin turned to ice to see her friend. She held her hand to her mouth to muffle the gasp she gave involuntarily and she could not stop the warm and steady flow of tears on her cheeks. She sat next to him on the bed and touched her hand to his. It was warm still.

"The woods," Thranduil said sadly as he continued to watch from the window.

"It started at the river," she sobbed. "That's how I knew." She stroked Legolas' hair from his face and she almost drew her fingers over his eyelids to close them but she couldn't bear to lose sight of the brilliant blue that she had loved all these years.

"Thranduil."

Tauriel looked to the doorway, startled. The King turned slowly, averting his gaze from the body of his son to face Elrond. His features betrayed his horror as he looked to Legolas and he looked behind him then as Galadriel stepped into view. Tauriel could feel Thranduil's confusion and it was difficult to watch when he blocked her path to the bed.

"My son, is gone," he hissed at her but she stepped around him.

"Let her help, Thranduil," Elrond urged his friend and forced him into an embrace. Finally, the King's resolve disintegrated and he broke down in his friend's arms.

"What am I to do, Elrond. Tell me."

"Hush now, Thranduil. It will be alright."

Galadriel looked at Tauriel with curiosity and she placed her hand over Legolas's heart. Tauriel flinched a little when the ring on the High Elfs' finger began to glow as though having been in fire. The light rippled like veins towards the wound in his shoulder to leave pale and healthy flesh and the prince shuddered as he drew in a large breath.

Thranduil was there in an instant and Elrond gasped as he pushed Galadriel aside. Her expression was more of relief than of anger and she slowly slipped away to leave the room. The cries of Thranduil as he held his son to him broke Tauriel's heart and she took the elf's hand in her own.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her eyes met Elrond's and he gave her a slight nod.

"_Ada."_

"Hush now, my darling. I'm here, you're safe." The King's cloak spread across the bed as though a shield to them both and the exhausted prince simply allowed his father to smother him in a tight embrace. His eyes met Tauriel's and she saw something there that she was unused to. She couldn't describe it but she couldn't look away from him when his hand tightened around hers.

"I saw you there," he whispered to her as his eyebrows knit together. Thranduil looked at his son curiously.

"Where" she asked him. He didn't answer her. "What do you mean, Legolas?" The prince reached out to touch her hair and her eyes met the King's as he watched them both.

"You may go," Thranduil told her. "My son must rest." She didn't argue with him but she watched a while from the doorway as Thranduil held him close.


	26. Chapter 26

"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?"

"I was coming to report to you, your grace," Tauriel spoke hurriedly as she stepped further into the room. "Legolas regains his strength. It is strange, it seems now his aim is even more sure; his speed even greater. Could that be possible?"

"I could not say. It is not often that elves come back from the dead."

Thranduil stepped over towards the font that resided in the centre of the room.

"He was to be named for my father," Thranduil told her as his fingers grazed the surface of the water within it. "But when my father was killed- I could not bear to hear the name on the lips of my wife. I did not wish for it to echo in these halls; to haunt me from within. It was the greatest dishonour to him but I chose a different name."

"Legolas," Tauriel said with a smile.

"No," Thranduil said softly. "Arbelleson." Their eyes met then and the King could see that Tauriel was confused.

"I desired my son to become a warrior. My greatest wish was to see my son succeed in the ways that I had failed. He would fight the great serpents of the north and he would win," Thranduil watched the water as he spoke but Tauriel caught the gleam in his eye. "The world would know his name and he would be the saviour of middle earth."

Thranduil sighed then with a smile.

"And then he was born. And on that day when I saw his perfect eyes, when his fingers curled around my finger and he fell asleep in my arms, I changed my mind. Arsinya hated the name. She wished to name him Legolas and I had laughed. But then I could see him. Like a vision before my eyes. The great warrior that would fight for middle earth and face the wrath of Sauron, struck down just like my father."

"You cannot know that to be true," Tauriel told him.

"No, I cannot. But I named my son so that I would not be haunted by the memory of my father and instead I am haunted by that of my wife."

His arms reached out to rest his weight upon the stone basin and Tauriel was sorely tempted to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"I have watched my son die, Tauriel. But not just by the blood of an Orc. I see it every time I close my eyes; each time when he is near and each time when he is far away. And each time I watch the light leave his eyes, I see the light leave hers; for they are the same."

"Does he look like her," she found herself asking without meaning to. The King was not angry as she thought. He seemed almost relieved to see her still there.

"No," he laughed a little. "With each passing year he grew more and more like me. She would often remark her jealousy on how much he had taken from me. She had always said how she hoped the next would look like her."

It was only then that Tauriel thought about how Legolas had no siblings. She had never given thought to it but the realisation was a bitter one to think on how there might have been a growing and happy family within these walls. She suddenly had a sense then of the loneliness the King was subjected to.

"Legolas, used to ask about her," he said with anguish. "Each time I would silence him until one day, he stopped asking. I knew then that I was failing him. It is not through death that he never knew his own mother. It is through me."

"You could talk to him about her. If you loved her you would not keep her from your son". I know that if I lost someone, I would want to carry on their memory. To think on them would bring me joy if I truly loved them," she said and fear struck her heart when Thranduil rounded on her.

"Foolish child! What do you know of love? All these years, I have seen your childish infatuations but none of it was real. Real love burns more fierce than the flame of the dragon," he sobbed. "Real love is a pain that shall never leave. That is how you know it was real, when it hurts."

He dismissed her then and regretted it when he was alone once more.


	27. Chapter 27

_"_Tauriel_?"_

"Legolas," she called back to him with a smile. He reached out towards her and she placed her hand in his. It felt cold despite the fact that he could not feel anything. Her eyes glistened and she raised her hand to her chest in a gesture of love.

"I feared you would not be here," he said. He couldn't remember how he came to be here or where he had come from but he remembered feeling a fear that she would be lost behind him. "Is my father here," he asked her and glanced around between the trees. The distant look in her eyes told him that he was not there.

"But he will be soon," she assured him even though the prince already knew it.

"Legolas."

The elf turned then to see his mother. He knew she would be here and somehow he had forgotten all the things he had wanted to say to her.

"I have missed you," he embraced her tightly and the scent of her skin was familiar to him. He watched as his mother gave a smile and a nod to Tauriel.

"Your father?"

"He is not here," Legolas told her sadly and she nodded sadly.

"You have grown so much like him my little green leaf. I shall be sad to see you go."

"Go?"

Legolas looked to Tauriel then and was startled to find she was not there.

"Tauriel!"

When he looked to his mother he began to feel fear creep into his veins as she reached out her hand towards him. A sudden rush of air darted through the trees and whipped at his hair and clothes and he found he could not move.

"Mother!"

"Hush," she soothed as she placed her hand over his heart. The pain was like nothing the young prince had ever felt. He felt like he was burning in ice and water and falling through the earth beneath his feet. In front of him was a cloaked and hooded figure with skeletal features and piercing eyes. He screamed and writhed in agony as he tried to free himself from its formless grasp and he gasped when he felt the cold steel of their dagger piercing through his shoulder. His vision was white at the edges and he wanted it to end.

"Please! No more, please!"

He sobbed as the blade was twisted in his muscles and he felt the warmth of his blood flow across his chest.

"Please," he whispered in exhaustion. "Let me die."

"Son of Thranduil," the creature whispered. "Legolas. _The son of men shall weep for thee. Too late it comes as ring did part. Treasure now that you may seek. The evenstar shall take your heart."_

He could taste metal in his mouth as the creature released him and he fell to the soft earth below.

"Legolas."

"Ada," he groaned helplessly and felt a strong pair of arms lift him a little from the cold ground.

"Hush now, my darling. I'm here. You're safe."

He opened his eyes to find himself in his father's bedroom with his ada beside him. He looked to his right when he caught sight of the red hair.

"Tauriel."

He clasped her hand in an attempt to know if she was real.

"I saw you there."

"Where," she asked him and when he didn't respond she asked him what he meant. He felt his father's eyes on him and embarrassment flowed through him. Did he love her? Surely he would only see her beyond if he did. Had he gone beyond? 'No, surely not,' he thought to himself. 'Then I couldn't come back.'

His father asked her to leave then and she did with reluctance.

"Legolas," his father said softly and pulled him tighter still. "I thought I had lost you. My precious child."

"What happened," he asked his father. He knew he sounded like scared child but his father would not judge him for that.

"Galadriel. She brought you back to us," he replied as he nuzzled Legolas' hair. Legolas brought his hand up to where he had felt the dagger pierce his skin.

"Does it hurt you?"

He shook his head, somewhat in disbelief.

"I saw-"

His eyes met his father's and he debated his words.

"I saw her."

"Tauriel?"

Legolas nodded but after a moment he shook his head. He would not keep it from his father. He was the only one he could trust even if it hurt him.

"I saw mother."

Thranduil did not seem as surprised as Legolas thought he would and he listened calmly as he was told about everything his son had experienced.


	28. Chapter 28

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray."

Legolas felt an ache in his heart lift as Aragorn's features softened.

"Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

His friend smiled a little then and lightly placed a hand on his arm. The feeling was comforting and welcome to the elf who had feared his distrust would create a rift between them. Aragorn licked his lips slightly and spoke in Elvish to assure him there was nothing to forgive. The prince was relieved, knowing he could not fight side by side with him if he had not asked forgiveness for his betrayal. If Aragorn was prepared to die with them, so was he.


	29. Chapter 29

"Legolas, don't climb so high."

The little elf peered down through the branches with an impish smile and his father laughed a little. His mother however had a stronger will and watched him with a stern gaze as he hopped from branch to branch down to the grass below. Thranduil felt his heart expand with the love he felt for both of them and he felt envy when his son ran forward to Arasinya to be held. She brushed his golden hair back from his face with an exasperated sigh.

"We're going to have to do something about your hair," she told him as she twisted some strands this way and that; trying to prevent her son from doing the same. He continued to squirm until the King swooped down and scooped him into his arms. He adored the manic giggles and shrieks that Legolas emitted as he spun him around and if he was honest he adored Arasinya's disapproval even more. He gave her a quick kiss which proved difficult when Legolas put two tiny hands in-between them. Thrandui laughed and set him down on the grass to which he began chasing an insect he had found.

"He's so like you," his wife said as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"That's not necessarily a good thing," he joked.

"I never said it was," she said seriously. He kissed her cheek then and she smiled.


	30. Chapter 30

"Ada," the little elf called out to his father with a worried scowl.

"Come now, Legolas. Don't disturb your father," one of the maidens held onto the child to prevent him running into the throne room. She had been instructed to keep him quiet whilst the council discussed arrangements after the Queen's passing. She herself had heard that there was to be a magnificent feast in her honour and that all the elves from the lands would come to pay tribute.

"Ada," the prince persisted and began to cry loudly as he twisted and squirmed in her arms. One of the guards at the door saw her struggling and offered his help in calming him.

"Now there, little prince. Your father shall see you soon but he's very busy at the moment," he spoke softly and if the situation weren't so bleak he would almost find humour in the little elf's pout.

"Where is my mother," he asked with a huff and they exchanged a look between each other; wondering what to say.

"Your mother isn't here anymore my pet," she told him gently as she stroked his hair. She had really grown to love the prince in her time here, so many had. Almost every day he would wander into the kitchens to ask for a bowl or canteen that he could mix things in and as soon as he left they would laugh and remark on how much he was growing into the image of the King.

"When will she be back," he asked her much more cheerfully than he should.

"She won't be," she said slowly and her heart ached when he began to cry once more. They tried to hold him but he pushed them away and pulled on the door that kept him from his father. The other guards watched him struggle and tried to avoid catching each others' eyes. They were just as surprised as the prince when one of the doors was pulled open and the King looked down at his snuffling son. In one graceful movement, Thranduil knelt and pulled his son close to him. For that moment they were enclosed in a different world; one of grief and pain and confusion. The King wondered inwardly how long they could stay there; they were immortal after all. There seemed to be no reason to return to the world he did not want to face.


	31. Chapter 31

_"Thranduil, I will not have my son grow up in a home where he is not even safe."_

_"We have tried, Arasinya," he had said irritably as he signalled for more wine._

_"I'm saying that we should kill them at their source. We have to protect Mirkwood, my love. Are defences against the orcs are strained and the spiders begin to build nests. What if we allow them to continue? What if Legolas should wander into their lairs?"_

_"Enough! Do you not think I have considered that? They breed at Dol Guldur, beyond our borders. I will not allow harm to come to our son, Arasinya. How could you doubt my concern?"_

"My King?"

Thranduil pulled himself from the memory and looked up. His guards and councilmen were looking at him with the same pity and sadness that they had when his father had been killed. If anything, he thought, their sadness should be tenfold. For one thing his father's death was not his fault and for another it did not concern his son. He stroked Legolas' hair as he slept in the folds of his cloak. He had not even begun to think on how he would explain to his son the concept that his mother would not return to him. He did not know how to explain it to himself. Days and nights had merged into one dry ache that never seemed to end or begin as he was bombarded with questions about a feast or a tomb or other such things. He simply did not care. They had tried to take his son from him and Thranduil was simply too empty to feel angry. They had all coaxed and advised and persuaded him that he needed some time alone; to take it in. He felt himself awaken, however, when Legolas screamed and cried as they lifted him from his father's arms. Perhaps it was a bad idea but the King had no intention of being parted from his child for the foreseeable future.

"We must ask you, my Lord, about an inscription for the tomb."

"There will be no tomb," he told them quietly so as not to disturb Legolas. He could see their confusion and disdain.

"My Lord-"

"You dare to question me?"

_"I should hate to be like that," she had said that cold morning. "Buried beneath rock and stone. I should wish to be free in the earth."  
><em>  
><em>"The earth," Thranduil had wrinkled his nose.<em>

_"Yes. So that I may be a tree or a river."_

"No, my Lord, but-"

"There will be no feast. There will be no tomb. Should visitors and well wishers arrive you may tell them they ought to leave."

They all watched him, horrorstruck. He turned his attention to his son who was waking up.

"Find me a sculptor."


	32. Chapter 32

The King watched his son crossing the river below. The wide arced branches curved through the halls and extended to the walls of their home, creating enough cover for him to watch without being seen. When he looked at his own child he often wished he more resembled her. She was someone that the world was a better place with and yet here he remained. His mind conjured up for him the scent of his own burning flesh from the dragon-fire that had so nearly consumed him those many years ago and he could not help but feel bitterness in his heart for how unfair it was. Not that it had been unfair on him; more that he had lived whilst so many perished. He had often wondered why he had survived when the fight was gone from within him.

And now, he was King. Governing a land he did not seem to care for on the basis that no one else would. He knew that he ought to make the choice to be happy. And in so many moments he was granted happiness that so many never even knew; yet the sadness he felt was the kind that settles into your bones and eats through the marrow until it finds that small part of your soul and stays there. His wife was gone and concealed under elven magic was the remains of something that had never been anything in the first place. Thranduil was not a vain man despite what so many thought about him. When his son was born he had taken greater pains in concealing the scarring left by the flames for fear that his son would see him as the monsters described to him in stories. How he longed to look upon his child the way everyone else did. To be blinded by his beauty and not by destruction.

He smiled as he thought on the day Legolas had asked if he could see the scars. The King had been grateful in a way for how he had asked it.

'May I see the evidence of your bravery, Ada?'

All those years he had concealed it left him with fear of any reaction to it. But when he had removed the enchantments that gave him back his features, Legolas had simply looked at him with a smile and remarked that of any scars he had seen, this was by far the most fearsome. Though he did his best never to spoil him, Thranduil could not resist and had a new bow made for him in Rivendell. The same bow that Legolas used now as he practiced by the water. Swift and lithe and graceful, strangely so, even for an elf.


	33. Chapter 33

"Your grace."

The prince stared gloomily into the mirror as various stewards and serving elleths fussed around him. He felt like a child as his blonde locks were combed into place and he protested loudly when he saw them carry in the crown his father expected him to wear. All of this opulence, he felt, was wasted on him. He simply wanted to be outside, exploring. All of this carry on about parties and gatherings and celebrations was simply a chance for the finest in the realm to show everyone their finest.

The crown was truly splendid. Small white flowers embedded with deep burgundy leaves. It captured the season in all its glory and he felt a sense of pride in his appearance when they placed it upon him. The feel of it forced him to stand straighter as he entered the room that evening. Of course every inch of his home was filled with people and laughter and wine and he felt out of place. He could feel every person in the room looking at him, some even moved to get a better view and he hated that it would never end. It baffled him that he was a source of fascination for so many simply because he was the prince.

"Health to you, your Grace," one of the elleths in attendance spoke to him as he passed. She stood with two others who blushed and averted their eyes with a shy smile. It took a moment for him to place her features until he recalled that she was the daughter of Eldera. The jewels she wore glimmered like starlight, far outshining the wearer in any capacity.

"Health to you," he replied with a smile that he hoped looked sincere. Somehow he always felt he had to prove himself. His father had told him many times what was being said of him. The young maidens he had spurned with his lack of interest spoke of his arrogance and distasteful nature and he wondered how many people believed them.

"It seems that it will be a splendid party, your Grace," she spoke again with eagerness for him to stay with their small party. He turned back to her out of politeness.

"Yes, I look forward to it ending so that we may find out."

It seemed that the party would never end and the prince was growing tired of the endless mind-numbing conversation and just how outrageously flirtatious some of the eoliths had been with him. One of them had greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and he had to wave away the guards that appeared at once. He was intrigued that she dared to wear such a revealing gown to an event such as this and her desperation gave him some amusement at the dull party.

He gladly accepted a fourth cup of wine despite the fear that his father would see him drinking it but he knew it was only weak. The most potent could only be found at the King's table. Growing tired of company his own age he decided he would at least inform his father that he had ventured from his bedroom. He spotted his father at one of the many tables and fought his way through the crowd with more and more people gaping at him.

"Ada."

"Ah, my boy. Come, come."

His father smiled to see him wearing the crown that had been made for him. No doubt he believed his stubbornness would result in it being lost or damaged.

"There is someone I would like you to meet, Caranthir, this is my son."

The elf bowed to the prince which only served to embarrass him.

"What an honour to meet you, my prince. I could have mistaken you for your father," he smiled. "You have inherited his eyes I see, and those famed golden tresses."

"And a love of fine wine," the King said with a glance towards the cup in his son's hand. The young elf could feel his cheeks begin to burn then but he was not scolded. No doubt that would come later.

"Caranthir has travelled here with his children. I have every faith you will make them feel welcome."

The prince nodded and exchanged pleasantries as he was introduced to his son. He was shorter in stature but he held a certain charm about him that commanded attention. His father returned to his table, leaving his son with their new guest.

"These things are always such a drag," the other elf said as soon as their fathers were out of earshot.

"I thought it was just me," the prince replied with a laugh.

"My father had to threaten us with banishment for us to accompany him and even at that I had to think long and hard. Our kitchens have the best honeyed cakes however. That's why I relented. Wine?"

The blonde prince felt a giddy merriness when this new found friend produced a bottle of the wine from his father's table.

"How did you-"

"Practice."

They each shuddered when they took a drink as the feeling of fire spread through them. At last the party began to hold some interest for the prince as the elf shared jokes with him.

"Rueben," he said after a while.

"What?"

"That's my name. Just in case you wondered."

The prince felt awkward then, realising he hadn't even asked.

"I apologise-"

"No need. Everybody always knows who you are, must be strange to have to ask others."

He thought for a moment and nodded.

"People think they know me. They think I am my father."

"Aren't you," Rueben asked with a hint of a smirk as he sipped the wine.

"Not at all. My father is brave."

"And what are you?"

He smiled then and looked away in embarrassment. He'd never been asked questions like this before.

"I suppose I am wise."

"Well if you have to suppose, that doesn't seem very wise. Besides, they're the same thing."

"How so?"

There was a pause then as he thought of his reply and the prince found himself eager to hear it.

"It takes great courage to win a battle without drawing a sword. And greater strength still not to take a sword to every idiot you encounter."

They laughed happily then and helped themselves to some of the desserts that were carried amongst them.

"Rueben?"

Just then an elleth walked towards them and Rueben spoke with her a while. The prince wasn't sure what was being said. His ears seemed to have stopped working as he stared at her.

"A pleasure to meet you, your Grace."

"Hmm?"

The noise of the room came flooding back to him in one deafening roar and he couldn't look away from the subtle green hue of her eyes set under dark lashes.

"My sister," Rueben repeated with a confused look at the prince's reaction.

"Arasinya," she said sweetly as she bowed.

"I'm-em."

"The prince," Rueben interjected as he stumbled.

"No, well, yes. But-"

"Thranduil."

He looked around sharply as his father called him.

"Join me."

He looked back at the beautiful elleth in front of him and tried to think of something clever to say. Or something funny to say. Or something nice to say. Or just anything. Words. Instead he seemed to gesture vaguely in the direction he intended to go and let his feet carry him there. His heart was beating quickly and he began to question the decision to drink wine. His father introduced him to some more people whom he did not care for and for the next hour or two he stole glances towards his new found friend. Arasinya smiled when she saw him looking and he almost dribbled his wine down his robes when he smiled back.

* * *

><p>"A bottle of Mirkwood's finest that he asks her to dance," Caranthir teased the King.<p>

"My son does not dance," Oropher replied with a hint of a scowl.

"Your son also does not drink wine," he said drily sipping his drink and watching as the prince stared at his daughter. His son caught his eye then and through non-verbal communication his son got the message. He pulled his sister onto the dance floor as the music played and they danced elegantly amongst the other couples there. Oropher sat further up in his chair as the elf guided them closer to the King's table.

"Good evening father," Rueben called to them. "Your majesty. Splendid party."

The King almost commended him as the music drew to a close and the pair found themselves in front of his son. Caranthir's son gracefully bowed out and motioned for Thranduil to take over, saying something that they could not hear. Oropher laughed when he saw the look of panic in his son's eyes and felt his chest swell with pride when Thranduil gracefully took her hands in his and pulled her into the rhythm of the next song. Every pair of eye's in the room fell to them but they only looked to each other.


	34. Chapter 34

"Legolas, my child."

"Ada, do not despair," he replied with effort that betrayed his anguish. "Oft hope is born when all is forlorn. I remember well you would say it to me as child. Do you go back on that now?"

"You are no longer such an age when I can wash away your fears for you with meaningless words. I know the pain you feel; the betrayal in your heart."

"Betrayal? How so, father? That would require a promise; the promise I so foolishly contrived in my own mind. I was a fool," he whispered as he pressed his forehead to the oak branches of the archway. He looked out over the beauty of his homeland and wondered if any of it had been true.

The King rested a hand upon his son's shoulder and there they remained for a moment. He watched his head fall down in defeat and felt relief when his son turned to embrace him tightly.

"When does it leave? This pain, when will I be free of it," he asked desperately as he let his father hold him and stroke his hair. He felt as though a young elfling once more.

"In time," Thranduil lied. "In time."


	35. Chapter 35

"My lord, Thranduil!"

"How dare you interrupt this council," Rhael spoke harshly to the steward that had burst through the doors. The elven youth stopped in his tracks and glanced to the King for permission.

"Speak, friend," Thranduil said kindly with a dark glance at his council member. He knew of this boy, Rinor. He had often seen him playing with Legolas as he carried out his duties.

"The Queen Arasinya, my lord. We did not know," he breathed in sharply. "She left the borders of Mirkwood early this morn'."

All eyes in the room fell to the King as he stood slowly. A slight twitch to his jawline was the only sign of his confusion.

"My son," he said quietly. "Where is my son?"

The steward seemed perplexed by the question.

"I-I do not know, your majesty. I had not thought...to look," he finished slowly as he surveyed the King's expression. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor filled the room and in a few short strides Thranduil had reached the doors and began barking orders to those around him. Rinor followed at a run as Thranduil stepped into his son's nursery. He watched from afar as the King stopped dead in the centre of the room that was filled with books and toys but with no sight of his child.


	36. Chapter 36

He barely registered the scratch of the stone as he clambered down into the cavern. The light gave way as he descended into the depths of the hollow and the sounds of the outer world faded to a thin echo. He knew this place from a memory; the last time when they had waged a war on the vile creatures here. Time after time he had sacrificed good soldiers, good elves. Each leaving Mirkwood with the desire to return in victory and impress their King but they never did. There was a small opening that he knew would lead to their lair. It remained marked by the crescent carved into the rock and he touched his fingers to it lightly as he entered. His strongest warriors followed behind him and awaited his instruction.

In spite of the small area in which they stood, they fanned out to raise their bows. Taking their aim at the slumbering creatures they watched as their King stepped forward to the unmoving figure that lay threaded amongst the silken web. He pulled a small dagger from his cloak and gently cut at the strands to reveal the face of the victim. His comrades watched his shoulders fall, his fingers lightly brush away the strands of her hair that fell over her eyes. They watched with sadness as he pressed a gentle kiss to his wife's lips and began to cut her loose from the bonds. At this the spiders began to awaken, each twitch of the blade on their net jostling them into their attack. Arrow after arrow was loosed whilst the King worked, a few soldiers moving quickly to help him lift the body.

* * *

><p>The silence stretched on with the road and every heart in their company was pained as they walked this funeral procession. Thranduil held her in his arms as they entered Mirkwood and the cries of anguish melted into the birdsong of the forest Kingdom. Gently he laid her on the stone table and accepted one of the sheets offered to him by an elf maid. It fell over her form in silhouette from her slender nose to her small feet. He stood back then in a daze wondering what he was supposed to do then. His wife's body lay before him and his son was lost to the demon creatures of the south. His thoughts circled each other in his mind as he cursed her for having gone and then cursed himself for thinking ill of her. Why would she go alone? Why would she take their child? How could she leave him in this world?<p>

"Your grace!"

Rinor stopped abruptly in the doorway as he took in the scene in front of him. Thranduil looked at him as though a child awaiting some instruction.

"Legolas is safe," he said slowly, knowing that what he said was all too bittersweet.

"Legolas," Thranduil murmured as his fingers caressed the edge of the fabric that hung from the table. "He must not see, Rinor," he said suddenly, his eyes piercing into the stewards with an intensity that only comes from the deepest desperation. "Promise me. He cannot see her like this. No child should see-" His resolve crumbled then as the horror took over his mind and his body. Those closest to him rushed to hold him as he fell to the ground. Dry sobs wracked his form as he relented to all that had happened.

"Send a message to Rivendell," one of them spoke to the boy. "Request Lord Elrond to come at once."


	37. Chapter 37

"Please your Highness. We need your full attention on this matter."

The King had barely responded to anything said to him over the last few days. For those around him the days dragged on endlessly as he stared despondently to the woods beyond. Each day, early with the sun, the King would rise from his chambers and descend to the throne room. It was clear each day that he awaited his friend or at the very least a message that they were on their way. But with each sunset it became clear that word from Rivendell could not be further away. His servants were grieved to see him so desperately in need of counsel and took little care in voicing their concern. They did not believe they were heard but they never did see the little elf who could hide so well.

The King was quite taken aback one morning as he assumed his usual position by the window, when a small thing climbed up and into his lap. It resembled him greatly and after a moment he realised that the creature was his son. It was a very nice distraction from such sorrowful thoughts to see something smile at him. He knew that today they would begin to ask him about the arrangements for his wife. What would they tell this little blonde thing? Though it did not concern him greatly at that point as the little prince soon disappeared to play.


	38. Chapter 38

Legolas watched his father carefully as his many advisors offered him their thoughts on the matter. They spoke of 'the greater good' and 'The Age of Darkness' as though things that concerned them. The prince could tell that his father was refusing to meet his eyes and he was, in a way, ashamed. He felt that what they said made sense. His father insisted that he would ensure the survival of their race but in these dark times there could be no certainty that the shadows would not touch their lands. Each day they grew closer to their home, he could feel it.

As the evening bled into the sky the matter remained unresolved. Legolas was impressed and unsurprised by the stubbornness his father showed but his lack of concern for the rest of Middle Earth outside of their Kingdom was worrying. Back and forth they argued about the message sent by Lord Elrond. He had requested the King send representatives to a council and it was clear in the message that the matter was not simply to be glossed over.

"Father," he said quietly at one point in their quarrelling. His father looked to him immediately.

"Yes, Legolas. What is it?"

Dozens of eyes fell to him then and adrenaline spiked through his blood as he spoke.

"I should care to travel to Rivendell. To meet with Lord Elrond."

He felt then that the wisest option would be to simply put the words back into his mouth, given his father's expression. Cold and steely eyes narrowed and he gave a dry laugh.

"How funny," he said abruptly, assuring his son that he did not agree.

"If you will not go, father, should I not go in your stead? To be your ears and your...to ...to be an advocate for the Mirkwood realm," he finished quickly as he avoided his father's gaze.

"You don't know what you say, Legolas," the King told him gently, wishing not to embarrass him or chide him in front of the council. He was almost a fully grown elf but he was still in Thranduil's mind, a child.

"I should like to see Rivendell, father," he said quietly in his most persuasive manner. It was cruel of him to play on his father's love for him but over the years he had feared leaving Mirkwood. He could not leave his father, he saw the pain and the anguish in him and he knew that he feared that he would leave one day to never return. He saw then the softening of his father's features and he knew that there was hope.


End file.
